


the strange and the divine

by unraelated



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (mostly humanish though), Dirty Talk, Fluff, Humiliation, Jeralt is a monsterfucker I don't make the rules, M/M, MAJOR LORE SPOILERS, Male Lactation, Nipple Play, Non-Human Genitalia, PWP, Spoilers for Seteth's identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unraelated/pseuds/unraelated
Summary: Ever since Jeralt discovered Seteth's true identity, he's been curious to learn about all the different things his body can do.
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Seteth
Comments: 17
Kudos: 273





	the strange and the divine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abellum (nishtabel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishtabel/gifts).



> Happy birthday Nat! This is... shameless and I hope you like it.

Cichol hid himself. He would never allow the destruction that happened in the war reach Cethleann again, and so he did what he had to. Blending in with the humans was not as difficult as he’d thought, as long as he did not allow them to get close to him. For that reason, a position at the church was ideal: it was far removed from petty conflicts and wars, and he himself would be seen as an untouchable figure to those around him.

No one could get close. No one would even want to try.

That was, until Jeralt.

The man had been in Rhea’s service for some time before the incident when her blood brought him back from the brink of death (and _why_ , Cichol - now Seteth - would ask her, over and over again, _why_ would she risk their safety for a common thug like him?) and bestowed upon him her own crest. It was impossible to keep their secrets from him after that, and Jeralt did so _love_ snooping.

Seteth had no patience for him, but then, Jeralt was the kind of guy who whittled his way between the cracks, who got under your skin despite all of your attempts to the contrary.

At least, that was how he dealt with Seteth.

It wasn’t much at first: Jeralt would take his meals with him, move to be near him when he stood on the ramparts to watch the sunset, nestled his way closer and closer until they were practically touching. Then they _were_ touching.

Seteth wasn’t sure how the progression of events really went. If anyone asked him, he’d insist that he bore no affection for the mercenary thug at all, that Jeralt was a thorn in his side and he resented Rhea’s decision to ever save his life in the first place.

And yet, when Jeralt kissed him, he leaned in. When Jeralt brushed his hair back to see his pointed ears for the first time, dragged his lip down to see the sharpened teeth, Seteth allowed it. Kept allowing it, even when allowing it went against everything he’d ever done to protect himself and Cethleann - now, Flayn. 

The thing was, Jeralt may have been his antithesis, may have been rough and grizzled and battle-hardened, but he was a _good_ man, under all of it. Despite his more rational nature, Seteth found himself trusting him. Then, looking forward to their meals together. Then, genuinely concerned when he went away on missions for Rhea.

He must have been losing his mind along with his other abilities. That was the only explanation.

“So… if Rhea is Seiros…” Jeralt started, musing as he bit down on his lunch, a simple sandwich from the mess hall, “and Indech is at that lake… Cethleann is a woman… so you -”

“Hush,” Seteth scolded him, miffed, and Jeralt’s face cracked into a grin. It was the kind of grin that Seteth recognized, a sheer pleasure Jeralt obtained in being _right_ and also being _annoying_.

“Let me see,” he said, sliding closer. Seteth eyed the door to his office, knew that it was locked, and sighed, not bothering to move away when Jeralt brushed his hair back again, let his fingers dance over the sharp point of his ear.

It felt… good, made his heart beat just a little faster, and Jeralt’s fingers slipped to remove the circlet holding his hair in place so that he could tuck the longer, green strands behind his ear. Seteth could not bite back a shiver at the sensation, though from Jeralt’s satisfied smirk, he wished that he could have.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” Jeralt told him, and again, Seteth tried not to let the heat rise to his cheeks, and again, was unsuccessful. “And I love thinking about you… there, at the beginning of all things, shaping the world so we poor humans could live in it.”

Seteth tilted his head up to look at him, his lips pursed, though there’s a quirk of amusement in his eyes.

“By now you know that that’s not technically true.”

“Shh, let me think what I want,” Jeralt insisted, and Seteth rolled his eyes but stayed still while his thick and well-calloused fingers trailed down his jaw, touching his throat and feeling the bounding pulse there.

He took in a deep breath.

“And what is it,” he started, while Jeralt’s fingers slid down to nudge the hem of his shirt aside to touch his collarbone, “that you want to think?”

Jeralt let out a low rumble of a laugh and leaned in, following his fingers with his mouth, his grizzled beard rough and burning into Seteth’s softer skin. It was ticklish but in the best kind of way, and he tried to fight back a smile, but couldn’t. Jeralt was too good at making Seteth _feel_ things.

“I think it’s a special kind of prayer to fuck a saint,” Jeralt finally told him, his words low and dirty in Seteth’s ear. “I think I want to see all the things your body will do under my hands. Do you fuck like a man, you think, or like something else entirely?”

“ - _Jeralt_ ,” Seteth hissed, scandalized, and he could feel the grin pressed against his throat while Jeralt’s fingers slipped down further to undo the clasp at the top of his shirt, sliding his hand inside to cup at the soft mound of flesh at his pectoral.

He didn’t move. He _couldn’t_. The idea that Jeralt was painting out for him, the picture he wove, it was one that Seteth hadn’t allowed himself to even think about, not in a hundred years, not in two hundred - but Jeralt was bringing it to the forefront of his mind all the same, with his prying hands and his damnable smile…

He fell into him like he fell every other step of the way. It was only a matter of time until Jeralt found his way into Seteth’s rooms in the middle of the night and made good on his promise. It was only a matter of time until he got _all_ of Seteth’s coverings off and looked at him, _really_ looked at him for the first time.

Jeralt touched him like he wanted to soil something divine, and Seteth had never wanted to be _ruined_ as much as he did when Jeralt’s fingers and tongue were undoing him. Seteth prided himself in hiding away all the parts of him that were inhuman, but Jeralt loved nothing more than to dig them up one by one and marvel at each one.

Like this: Seteth on his stomach, shirtless while Jeralt slid his fingers down the divots of his spine. Too many vertebrae, risen into too-sharp of points, several of which broke through the skin, exposing dark green bonelike ridges between his shoulders, at his tailbone. Where they didn’t manage to break through, they rested in a green shadow underneath his skin; where they _did_ , they were set in his skin like a fingernail, not painful, but _fascinating_ for Jeralt to touch, to linger over, to get his fucking _mouth_ on as often as he could.

Or this: Seteth flushed and laying back on his bed, his hand pressed over his face to hide his embarrassment while Jeralt looked, _really_ looked over his cock.

“It’s almost a shame,” Jeralt breathed over it and Seteth whined, his hips pulsing up and hard, _so_ hard, “that you can’t fuck me… I don’t even think I can get my _mouth_ around that without hurting myself.”

Seteth flushed deeper, his face a dark red by then while Jeralt categorized the shape and size of his cock. It was larger than a normal man’s for sure, but that wasn’t what made him hesitate - it was the _spines_ that lined along the shaft, needlelike and dangerous in long rows along his skin.

If he were still in any kind of rationality, he would have explained how mating worked in his species, how the sharp little spines smoothed down against him while he’s inside of someone, how the anatomy of a woman was designed so that the pieces coincided, but just then, when Jeralt was curiously running his fingers light - _too_ light, so damnably light - along the ridges of his cock, exploring each little spike of keratin… well, then he was remarkably distracted.

“Is it a lot?” Jeralt asked him, his fingers sliding down now, further, to Seteth’s full and large testicles, feeling their heaviness in his palm, marveling at how they felt so foreign compared to his own. “When you come? I bet it is. I can’t wait to see.”

In that moment, Seteth felt acutely as if he would just die. He shook with it, seeking that delicious friction over and over again, but Jeralt held back, continued _exploring_ , as if he was categorizing every alteration of his body.

“We,” Seteth tried to say, breathless, swallowing hard, “our species are not - as fertile as humans. We have to… in order to reproduce, we’ve evolved to…”

Jeralt grinned from his place above Seteth’s hips, as delighted as Seteth had ever seen him.

“I’m taking that as a ‘yes’.”

“You’re insufferable,” Seteth accused on a shaky breath and Jeralt’s smile turned cheeky as he situated himself down around Seteth’s thighs once more.

“You love it.”

And the thing is, he _did_. Whether it was like this, with Jeralt figuring out how to pleasure him, or when Jeralt would watch him in the chapel, meet his eyes and mouth out what he wanted to do to him that night, or simply eating shared meals or watching the sunset together - Seteth did love it.

His world was bleak and gray, a portrait in survival until Jeralt crashed into his life and filled it with color again.

Tangled together on Jeralt’s thin and perfunctory bed, Seteth couldn’t even resent him for it.

Jeralt had a way of kissing that was all-encompassing: the scratchiness of his beard left angry red rashes on Seteth’s skin, a telltale sign that they’d been together, but he found that he couldn’t care, not when Jeralt leaned in to press his tongue into Seteth’s mouth, opening him, claiming him in a way that made Seteth just want _more_ , faster -

Sometimes, he’d turn over right then, lift up on his knees, demand that Jeralt make good on his earlier promises. Others, he would pull him closer and let his long nails drag down Jeralt’s chest, catching on his various scars, while Jeralt talked dirty enough to him that he could practically come with just the softest touch.

That night, it wasn’t either. It was Jeralt having Seteth on his back, his thin blankets pushed down to the bottom of the bed as he wrapped a careful hand around his cock, his fingers barely unable to touch when circled around the girth of him. He had to be careful there, and he’d left their encounters with scratches on his palm more than once, but Jeralt was getting better at working with Seteth’s body and enjoyed the challenge of learning him.

“Look at you,” he said, teasing, leaning down to press a kiss to the center of Seteth’s chest. Seteth bit his lip in turn, arching up against him with a soft sound, “my little saint… all mine, and I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, to see you like this… do you like it? My hands on you? You want something else?”

Seteth _whined_ , spreading his legs, wishing that Jeralt would just get _on_ with it already, but instead Jeralt took his hand off of his cock to reach up, brushing his thumb along one of Seteth’s nipples as he shifted upward for another kiss.

Seteth, Jeralt had gleefully discovered, was sensitive there. What small facet of Seteth’s prudish personality remained was always offended at Jeralt’s insistence at playing with his chest, which of course, only made Jeralt want to touch him more.

“Jeralt…” he said low, almost warning, and Jeralt let out a mock-sorrowful sound, latching his teeth onto Seteth’s throat to suck a mark that would prove difficult to hide.

“Let me play with ‘em… I’ll make you feel so good that you’ll wonder why the hell you were so reluctant to begin with.”

Coming from Jeralt, it almost sounded like begging, but he punctuated it with a devilish pinch of his fingers and Seteth let out a keening sound, his hips rolling up on instinct at the sweet shock of pleasure that bolted through him.

“Is that a yes?” Jeralt asked from his position near Seteth’s throat and he bit again, lifting his remaining hand to touch his other nipple, expertly scraping a thumbnail across where it was peaked, and Seteth couldn’t think to react, let alone tell him no.

“ _Jeralt -_ ”

“Love the sounds you make,” Jeralt gritted out, dipping his head lower to lick and nip at Seteth’s collarbone, “when I pinch your perfect little tits.”

As if to prove it, he closed his fingers around the both of them and _pulled_ , and Seteth rose up with him. The grasp was gentle, not made to hurt, but even so, the twist of Jeralt’s wrists made Seteth practically see stars and he was breathless all over again.

“Th- they aren’t-” he tried to say, but cut himself off when Jeralt leaned down to latch his mouth around one, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked, creating such a pleasurable sensation that Seteth almost came right then and there. His own hands slid up to Jeralt’s shoulders, fingers sliding up the back of his neck to fist in his hair, and when Jeralt let his tongue brush over the hardened peak of it, warm and wet with saliva, Seteth wanted to cry.

“Aren’t what?” Jeralt asked, pulling back just enough to speak and to look at the reddened and puffy mess he’d left behind. He took in a breath and blew cool air over the wettened flesh, making Seteth shiver, feeling as if he were about to burst, “aren’t tits? Sure they are. My darling saint’s perfect little pink tits.”

With that, he moved to pay attention to the other one but kept his thumb brushing against the abused bud, paying no mind to Seteth’s fingers fisting in his hair, Seteth curling around him, and if he still had a tail, if he still had his wings, he knew that they would be cocooning around Jeralt’s larger body, holding him firmly against him while he gave him everything.

Even - _oh_ , as Jeralt started to suck at him again, Seteth let out a stuttered gasp when he felt something in his body just _give_ and a small spurt of liquid fell against Jeralt’s tongue.

Despite being in the throes of passion, Seteth could still feel shame and dread coil inside of him like a snake, and he went very still as Jeralt slowly pulled off of him, staring - not at Seteth’s face, but at his nipple, where he’d just felt... 

Jeralt moved his hand upward again as Seteth pulled his arms back to cover his face, humiliated, but he didn’t stop Jeralt’s movement as the larger man cupped at Seteth’s pectoral and kneaded at the muscle there, gentle, coaxing, working his fingers closer and closer together until they pinched together at the first pinking of his nipple.

A small dribble of white fluid trickled out of the peak and Seteth groaned low in his throat, ashamed and humiliated and confusingly still aroused, particularly when Jeralt dipped his head lower and swiped his tongue across it, licking it up, tasting it, and gasping softly once he’d finally processed what it was that Seteth’s body was doing.

“Of all that’s holy…” he whispered to himself, his voice absolutely _reverent_ and utterly wrecked, hips working until Seteth could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against his thigh.

“Jeralt,” Seteth tried to explain, finding his voice _finally_ , somehow still worried that Jeralt would be disgusted, somehow after all this, feeling the spike of anxiety that this part, _this_ was too much for him, _this_ was what would finally lead him to leave. “It’s just the - the men are the… um, the nurturers while the women are leaders and so we - I can…”

But Jeralt had already latched his mouth back on over his chest, finally speechless for once, his mouth working as he _sucked_ , and Seteth groaned as he felt himself give into it, his body reacting instinctively and giving Jeralt his milk.

There wasn’t much of it. It wasn't like Seteth had been doing this regularly, and so his body was ill-prepared, only giving in a short handful of drops every time Jeralt’s greedy mouth sucked at him. Instinctively, Seteth finally lowered his arms around Jeralt’s head, coddling him without really meaning to, while he nursed.

 _Nursed_. His breath was stuttered and shaky by the time Jeralt finally pulled off of that one, his warm eyes looking up and making eye contact with Seteth for the first time since he’d discovered this new and different facet of his body.

“You’re a goddamn treasure,” Jeralt told him, his hips working against Seteth’s thigh, his own thigh tucking in between Seteth’s legs, encouraging him to fuck up against him, not even caring that his cock was dragging the ridges of the spines along the muscle there, scratching lightly into his skin. “So filthy, and all mine… will you make more if I do it to you again?”

Seteth bit his lip, torn between what tiny sliver of pride he had left and his desire to see that look on Jeralt’s face again, to feel his mouth around him again, the warmth of his tongue and that heavenly suction. Eventually, he nodded, unable to meet his eyes while Jeralt reached down with a hand to start jerking himself off.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he said emphatically, “I’m gonna, you know I have to. Your perfect tits are gonna fill up for me, just for me - _shit_ , my little saint, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Seteth whined at the pet name, feeling desperate for it as well, his hand reaching down between them to touch at his own cock, carefully tracing along the ridges of it with his fingers and feeling Jeralt surge up against him.

“Jeralt - “

“I’m so fucking hot for you, every time we do this and you show me something else, it’s like I’m a goddamn teenager again.” With great effort, Jeralt took his hand off of himself and wrapped it around Seteth’s, causing him to press harder against his own cock, feeling as the spines smoothed down until they were nearly imperceptible against his skin. 

With that, they stroked him together, Jeralt’s thumb smearing across the head of his dick, and Seteth tipped his head back, gasping, feeling as the pressure built up.

In the end, it was Jeralt putting his _mouth_ back on him, sinful and heated with the tip of his tongue dragging across where he was most sensitive. Seteth let out a cry, arching up for the final time in Jeralt’s uncomfortable bed as he came and came hard, painting his stomach and Jeralt’s hip with his spend, feeling as the barbs sprung out to theoretically keep him buried, but with nothing to grip onto it just meant that they had to remove their hands or risk getting scratched.

No matter. Once Seteth started coming, it was impossible to stop. It crested in waves, his eyes rolling back in a mindless pleasure as Jeralt crawled up his body and slung his leg over his chest, cock pressed against his sternum.

With one last desperate pulse, Seteth painted Jeralt’s spine in his spend before he finally fell back, exhausted as Jeralt gripped at his chest, kneading it on either side of his cock, thrusting into the hollow space of his throat.

“You were fucking amazing,” he grunted, and Seteth’s eyes fluttered shut. Still, he had the sense of presence enough to reach up and help Jeralt, weakly pressing his pectorals together and tipping his head up so that Jeralt could thrust the tip of his cock into his open mouth.

With that, he opened his eyes again, looking up toward Jeralt with his mouth around his cock and knowing full well that he looked utterly debased with his messy hair, his bruised and pinked chest pushed up around Jeralt’s cock, the wetness on his face from the intensity of his orgasm and Jeralt’s own spend now, smudging against his cheek on a missed thrust.

He grunted as he felt the last small dribble of milk seep from his nipple. Jeralt saw it, of course he did, felt the liquid of it run down into the center of his chest and lubricate his thrusts just slightly and that was it - he came suddenly, reaching down to fist a hand in Seteth’s hair and hold him in place as he came against him. Some of it went into his throat, which he swallowed dutifully, but too much of it painted at his cheeks and chin and even his nose.

Seteth wanted to wipe it off immediately, but when Jeralt finally opened his eyes to look down at him, his expression was nothing short of awestruck.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you like this,” he murmured, reluctantly crawling off of Seteth’s body and reaching for a towel so that he could wipe them both up.

Since they’d started doing this, Jeralt had learned that it was best to keep a larger towel on hand, due to the sheer volume of mess that came from his partner, something that both embarrassed Seteth and aroused Jeralt in turn.

Seteth was always loose-limbed and exhausted after, and he offered up a sleepy sound before curling to his side and tugging Jeralt close, feet kicking at the covers, fidgeting with the sheets beneath them and burrowing into the pillow. The process of finally getting comfortable after sex could take upwards of twenty minutes, but Jeralt had allowed it ever since Seteth had flushed and bashfully muttered the word _nesting_ the first time he was questioned on it.

Jeralt curled into him when finally permitted, his mouth breaking open into a grin that Seteth could barely make out with his blurry half-closed eyes. He felt, rather than saw, Jeralt press a kiss to his forehead, his warm breath ghosting over his hair.

“Sleep, my little saint,” he whispered, fingers stroking over his hair while Seteth finally settled against him. “I’ve got you, _Cichol_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Nobody is allowed to judge me for this... my twitter is [unraelated](https://twitter.com/unraelated) if you wanna come talk!


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